


New Teeth

by PeachGO3



Series: SPN Inspired by German Songs [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Evil Chuck, Introspection, Post-Episode: s14e20 Moriah, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachGO3/pseuds/PeachGO3
Summary: “God was never on your side” – or was he? Anyways, time to change things up.





	New Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> People at PurCon gave Robbie shit for Chuck’s character development (jokingly of course), but I really like the idea of Chuck changing his mind on his creation. Just a little something that came to my mind. The lyrics are from “Alles neu” by Peter Fox. Enjoy!

_I’m burning down my studio, snuffing ash like cocaine_  
_I beat my goldfish to death, burying it in the yard_  
_I let my flat explode, I’m letting everything go_  
_My old life tastes like some floppy toast_

 

“Story’s over,” he had said. Bam. At first, Chuck had internally shaken his head at that statement. It felt kind of campy, it had been the heat of the moment – but now, thinking about it, he kind of liked it. It was dramatic and cool and had a sense of finality, and it made him seem powerful. Well, he was powerful, he was the Almighty (sometimes he still had to remember that). For a spontaneous, unplanned comeback, it was pretty neat.

He should go in that direction. Zombies and all.

 

_I’m growing a new row of teeth like some white shark_

 

The old testament was all about cruelty. Chuck snickered. He had called himself cruel and capricious before, but only as a joke. Or a disguise. However, the God of Love that most people seemed to see in him wasn’t the whole truth either. He wanted people to see him as his true self, not some projection of their fears and hopes. As some old man on a cloud who judged fairly. But how could he change people’s opinion of him? By changing his behavior, it seemed. His whole shtick. And the Winchesters were a good start. And that killer jacket, damn, it looked good. Some dapper attire right there.

_Waxed, doped, polished, brand-new teeth_  
_I’m euphoric and I’ve got expensive plans_

 

But he was a writer, wasn’t he? That was Chuck’s true nature. A writer, getting creative, making drafts, enjoying them and throwing them away later. The Winchesters had been a good draft, they and their world. Drama, love, tragedy – a fun draft. Writing was fun. That Nephilim boy had become a problem, really, but hey, now it was just another failed sandbox. Lame. Happens. At least they had given him the final push. Now, Chuck was so fed up that he felt like never writing again. Well, nothing too creative at least. Although you could get pretty creative with killing people. He should continue writing.

 

 _Hey, everything shines, so wonderfully new_  
_Hey, if you don’t like it, start anew_  
_The world is covered in dust, but I wanna know where we go next_  
_I climb this pile of dirt because up there, fresh wind’s blowing_

 

No! No, that wasn’t it. He needed to go tabula rasa on this. No bullshit, no silly narratives. ‘Story’s over’, like he said. But he loved narratives so damn much, could he ever let go of these? He loved stories.

“Aww, man,” he sighed as he sat down. He had shut everything out. Nothingness was the best, really, it was the best place to think. He didn’t even need a drink. He needed fresh air. Unconsumed air. He had to get rid of that red jacket, it annoyed him.

 

 _I’m fed up with my old stuff and let it rot in a bag_  
_I mothball my clothes and go shopping naked_

 

What would his children say if they saw him like this? Or Amara?

Oh, right. Amara.

Chuck sucked in a breath. He could not possibly destroy the universe, that was her job. To end everything there is and cloak it in darkness. He _had_ to get creative with his destruction, otherwise it would not work. “Pffew,” Chuck made and leaned back, relieved. Problem solved! Now he could continue writing.

Maybe on guitar? He picked it up and started playing some chords, but then he figured – he had learned guitar to look more grounded. He did not want to be grounded anymore. Would clash with the new image he was going for. Hm. Dammit.

 

 _My head’s exploding, I need everything to change_  
_I look for that button and meet the mighty men_  
_Imposing well-being on this land by force, buying banks and stations_  
_Everything’s going haywire, sheep and lambs are trembling_

 

What should he do now? The thought of Amara was unsettling. What would she say? She had found pleasure in his creation, she thought it was beautiful. He did not want to fight with her again. She would call him childish.

But he _had_ to do something, that was for sure. Maybe he could implement his plan in secret?

Oh. Yes! “Gosh, I’m brilliant,” he smiled.

He could create a secret realm, a land known only to him. He could shield it from Amara, she wouldn’t know a thing. “That’s naughty,” he said to himself, biting his lip. He felt like wearing a leather jacket, yes, that seemed appropriate.

_I look better than Bono and I’m a man of the people_  
_Ready to save the world, even if that might be overkill_

 

He sighed. He should say good-bye now. ‘God left’, haha, how fitting. Chuck snickered and adjusted his new jacket. That killer jacket, oh man, it looked so great. He should’ve gone for black much sooner. Made him look much more badass. Chuck crushed his guitar as he stepped out into the universe.

 

 _There’s no fresh air here anymore, I’m having trouble breathing_  
_Bye-bye, I gotta go, the walls are coming closer_  
_The world is covered in dust, but I wanna know where we go next_  
_I climb this pile of dirt because up there, fresh wind’s blowing_

_Hey, everything shines, so wonderfully new_


End file.
